The Shadows' Minion
by DiscardedNotes
Summary: Discarded to their version of a recreated hell, Harry finds himself disillusioned with the world, and when a new familiar figure offers him something new to play with, why should he refuse? Sucky summary because I couldn't think up anything better but it's not so bad, you'll see.
1. Something Different This Way Cometh

**A/N: Reading an old fic by FalconLux I rather like again gave me inspiration for this. It's a bit shorter than I expected while I was typing it, but I do like my mystery setup considering how often I play with it in my Assembly~**

 **I might continue this, I might not. We'll see. I have a vague idea for a second chapter and almost no motivation to actually continue it.**

 **Review and I might change my mind though~**

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"Why the bloody hell should I help you?" He sneered; an expression he'd taken upon copying from his old potions professor more and more often these days, though usually not in correlation with those one might think the expression would go paired with.

"Dearest Harry, surely you are not still disillusioned with the world?" _And those you formerly held dear_. Though unspoken, those words hovered in the air between them. The boy looked away bitterly, his expression contorting in a myriad of emotions the boy likely no longer truly knew how to express; while the man gave show of a patient smile, as though he knew better than the illusion the boy was trying to paint.

Harry Potter had long lost illusion with the world, and his former friends, this was true. They had all left him here and while many offered him their _deepest_ regret and guilt and whatnot, not a single one had lifted a finger to remove him from his new hell. One might call it a step up from the Dursleys, just without the beatings.

It had been five years since then, and the boy could only show a semblance of sanity because the man allowed him so. He was not known to the rest of the world - not known beyond his proud little island of the condemned and the hungry - but that was exactly as things should be. Yet now...

Now someone foolish and ignorant wished to try and remove from him his home, and that was simply not acceptable. Ah yes, not even one but _two_ people, pathetic and floundering beings with foolish skewered visions of the world, wished to remove his faithful pets, his collection of the tortured and his home away from him.

Not that they knew he existed, but that mattered little when one threatened your home. And the boy faking a pout in front of him was his ticket to keeping his home safe. He could not step out into the open, but the boy _could_.

"You _know_ my history, why would you ask this of me?" The boy asked instead, after a moment of pause, the attempt at mimicking emotion dropped as quickly as he had attempted to adopt it. He no longer had enough memory of proper fuelled emotion to be able to mimic it accurately.

"You would compare me to the old goat?" A chuckle resounded through the air, though it did not sound amused and nothing lit in the dark abyss that was the man's eyes. He watched the boy flinch back and avert his eyes, murmuring an apology under his breath.

This man, his lord, had done much for Harry. He had allowed him to keep his sanity, trained his magic, although only indirectly and subtly at first, and he had taught him much, had shown him the world as it happened around them, none the wiser that their private conversations held in trust weren't as safe as they would have liked to believe.

Dumbledore had well and truly abandoned him here, this Harry knew to be fact, and it had been three years since he had begged his lord to allow him to learn, a desire for revenge flowing through him unlike what he'd felt before even for the Dursleys.

That emotion had faded over time, just as every other emotion had, but he had learned so much! Oh his head still spun and his heart still filled whenever he thought about it. The magicks he could call to his fingertips in moments was remarkable and he adored it like he adored little else. Those he had formerly sought approval from certainly would have been disgusted with him, would have demanded and pleaded for Harry to give up this moral-less hunger for power. They would have been so wrong though.

There was nothing wrong with the shadowed magic that now flowed freely through his core. Tom Riddle was no longer a threat to his mind and Dumbledore would never again be able to spin his sweet lies over Harry again, for he could instinctively tell truth from lie now. His new magic allowed him such power that he had never thought he could be capable of, all gifted to him by his lord.

Never once had he figured out why though...

Certainly, the castle liked him, favoured him along with her master even, but for that to be the reason to gift Harry with such opportunity seemed farfetched to him, though his lord was long known to him as a eccentric by now.

"Worry not, Harry." The man spoke again, snapping the boy out of his thoughts and memories. "I wish not to control you, but we both know the world has nothing to offer you now, and my dearest castle has become your home now too. It is only reasonable that we protect her together."

Harry nodded, relaxing as the castle's magic reached out to him. She too, welcomed him, wished for him to stay like her master stayed. And really, there had never been any doubt, but perhaps he was simply stubborn for old times' sake. Shaking the thought away he looked up and smiled.

"It would be my honour, Lord Azkaban."


	2. Think You're Scared?

**A/N: Welcome to chapter two, which was fighting me. I have a few ideas of where to take this currently, but suggestions are welcome. Pairing suggestions are _not_. As I'm sure you all know, reviews are also thoroughly appreciated. Food for the soul and all that~ **

**Enjoy**

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Harry frowned as he looked out to the raging sea below. The air was clear tonight, but he knew a storm was brewing; the waves were obvious enough in that. Today was ideal for what they had planned, but he occasionally still doubted, though he doubted himself more than his lord. He was to be the figurehead of the movement...

He sighed, resting his forehead against the rough rock of the castle, shoulders only briefly tensing as his lord stepped out of the shadows directly behind him. He merely turned his head slightly and murmured a greeting, gaze lost among the waves as though the water could find him his confidence again.

"Calm yourself, little lord." Azkaban said, his voice carrying easily over the roar of the water despite having spoken softly. His fingers gripped the boy's shoulder firmly before letting go, a show of encouragement perhaps. "You need not have fear, and I will guide you as I always have, until you no longer need it."

Harry felt a small smile tug at his lips then. "Thank you, my lord." With a small shake of his head a dark cloak covered his shoulders, though no hood or mask appeared to accompany it, as per his lord's wishes. Lord Azkaban wanted Harry to be visible, to have the world know whom they were facing head on and to let them see the pure potential they had squandered. And of course, it would not do for the world to realise that Castle Azkaban had a chosen lord of her own rather than merely a prisoner masquerading his power.

Ah, but then Harry had his permission, and Azkaban liked him. The boy was different; this he had known when the boy had first been tossed upon his shores. He was innocent, like he had seen few others and after seeing the boy's memories, courtesy of his Dementors, he had allowed him reprieve and even eventually made himself known to the lad, his interest growing by the day as he learned more about the miserable and abused innocent they had left behind. And now, Azkaban would be the one to profit from his company, instead of the undeserving sheep that had sent him here, condemning him to almost inescapable hell.

With the cloak Harry amassed his confidence and straightened his back, walking towards the guards' quarters without further ado. They would reclaim their island from those who thought they owned her, and then would come the rest of the world. Their wish was simple, keep out or get killed. Naturally, with the knowledge they had of the outside players, this would not happen. Rather they might even take it as a challenge, but that was alright. It had been a long time since Azkaban had fought for her shores, and Harry could feel the castle's excitement mix with his own.

It had been a long time since his own last battle as well; the magical world wouldn't know what hit it.

A wave of his hand had the doors to the guard hall slamming open, a smirk settling on his face as he strode in. The poor sods the ministry had placed here suffered from dementor exposure almost as much as the actual prisoners did, leaving them slow and ill prepared for an attack, especially one from the inside.

"What the—" The aurors instantly had their wands out and pointed towards their supposed prisoner, some sneering when they recognised him.

" _Potter_." A red spell came flying towards him; presumably a stunner, which he simply batted it away with a small burst of wandless magic. Seeing their stunned expressions he felt his current role settle into place and he grinned.

"Good evening gentlemen, I see I don't need to introduce myself." Another wave of his hand had their wands flying out of their hands, only one or two managing to keep theirs by chance. The rest had been too stunned by the display of wandless magic; something considered near impossible, especially for a teenager.

The wands vanished inside Harry's cloak as he stepped into the room, enjoying the looks of trepidation on their faces as they awaited what he had to say. They would realise soon enough that they were stuck to the floor and were unable to do anything should they disagree with him. And disagree they would.

"I have gotten, it seems, bored with my continued existence in my cell and have decided to take this island for myself. Some of you, will be fortunate enough to survive this and make it to the ministry to report the incident. The rest of you..." He let his words trail off, allowing their imagination to fill in what would happen to them. Harry wasn't entirely happy with what he would need to do here, but they needed to make a point and as his current guise he would not be able to spare even innocents. That was, assuming these people were innocent in the first place.

He shook the thought off with a simple shrug and picked out the two weakest aurors, gluing them to the wall with another flick of his wrist, ignoring their loud protests and attempts at spell casting. Azkaban would not allow them to harm her fledgling, as she had apparently taken to referring to him as such.

"Come now gentlemen, we will not be able to settle this peacefully but that is no reason to make such a racket." The aurors quickly found their mouths seemingly glued shut, which was a far more amusing sight than simply silencing them. Harry began walking through them, taking in the feeling of their magic and the level of resistance in their glares.

Harry found himself closing his eyes briefly while his back was turned to his audience, steeling himself. Tonight he would go from an innocent to a murderer, and while a small part of him protested this, he already knew there was no going back. His dearest friends had recounted how he had killed Quirrel in his first year, how he was a parselmouth, had helped an escaped convict, how he was a liar and how he had cast an unforgivable in the halls of the Ministry after destroying the hall of prophecies.

They had all testified against him rather than for him and with that damned twinkle in his eyes Dumbledore had told him something that still made his blood boil a full year later. _'I'm so sorry my boy, but it is for the greater good'_. He had nothing to go back to now.

"Crucio." The spell rolled softly off his lips as he turned around, pointing one of the confiscated wands at the warden. He would not back down now, Azkaban would be _his_ to protect.

The spell lasted for nearly over a minute before he cut it, the man's muffled screams echoing through the room. A smirk settled on his features, letting the power rush of the dark magic settle through his body. He was barely even getting started...

An hour later bodies lay mangled on the floor, blood spilling freely from the quickly cooling corpses. The only two survivors looked green and one had even vomited over himself as he watched his friends and co-workers be tortured by a boy they had all once championed as their saviour.

Skin had been peeled from flesh, organs exposed and torn apart, nails and eyes removed brutally and body parts burned and now the whole room stank of blood and death. Dark magic seemed to thrum against the walls now before slowly beginning to curl back into the host and caster. Green eyes were glowing bright enough to remind the survivors of the Avada Kedavra, which had yet to be cast.

Harry stepped smoothly over the corpses towards his little messenger rats, delighting in the fear that was radiating off of them. If this was what the auror force had under its command, it was no wonder that Tom had been winning the war. And really, using lethal force was _so_ much more interesting! At least your opponent wouldn't get up again.

"You both will return to the ministry and report to whoever is in charge that Azkaban no longer stands under ministry control. The Dementors are _mine_ , as are the prisoners. Any attempts at invasion will be met with deadly force. Yet leave me and my island alone and you will never hear from me again, is that clear?"

The two nodded as quickly as they could, knowing madam Bones would require their memories to be submitted to verify their claim. They fell to the floor as Harry released the magic keeping them in place. "Good, then go."

In a flash they found themselves at the island's shore, the small boat used to take prisoners to the island drifting before them innocently. The ministry would know what had happened before the night was over. Though what would actually happen was anyone's guess.


End file.
